Impossible Things
by SquirrelWho
Summary: When a mysterious blue box appears on Baker Street, a blue box that only opens at Sherlock's touch, he finds a strange blonde woman inside who insists on the impossible. Faced with the realization that his entire life has been a charade he must choose between the facade and the truth because sometimes the truth can be a trap.
1. Run For Your Life

I know...I know, completely mental, too many stories, but I just love _what if_ so much and I've seen a few stories on here, not a lot, but a few, with the suggestion..._what if Sherlock was a Time Lord. _And I thought...that would be brilliant, so here's my attempt. Probably won't be updated as often as the others, but I thought I'd put up a couple chapters that I wrote over the last couple months. So, happy holidays! :)

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Rose crouched behind the skip with the Doctor, well, the human Doctor. It took her a while to see him like that, even after what the Time Lord told her, _and I'm him. _It was true though. He was the Doctor in human form. They had the same memories and he always made the choice she knew the Doctor would make.

But still, it took her a long time to come to terms with the choice the Time Lord Doctor made. Leaving her behind after everything she'd gone through to get back to him. Then, just when she thought she had a chance at happiness this happens and now she was running and hiding just to stay alive another day.

Her parents, Tony, she pushed the memories away before they threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn't think about what happened to them. Was it only two days ago? She had to think about the present because this moment was all she had.

She heard the mechanical footsteps and froze. It sounded like a dozen at least, maybe more. The Doctor poked his head around the corner.

"How many?" she asked.

"Too many," he replied.

She could hear the fear in his voice and she knew he wasn't afraid for himself. She sighed. They'd come so far. She almost laughed at the irony of being killed this close to freedom, but she knew if she allowed it she'd become hysterical because she wouldn't be able to stop.

"Why?" she whispered, speaking not to the Doctor, but the universe. "Why is this happening again?"

It was the Cybermen, again. They'd found their way out of the Void and back here. Neither she nor the Doctor had been able to figure out how, mainly because they'd been too busy trying to save everyone.

The Doctor figured it must have been a couple at first, but they'd been hiding and converting people for who knows how long. By the time they came out in full force there were hundreds, maybe even thousands. And now there were more Cybermen than humans.

If she hadn't insisted on trying to save her family maybe they could've stopped this, but she had to find her parents and Tony, which is what got them stuck at the other end of town for three days. Even after all of that she hadn't been able to save them.

A tear slid down her cheek and that's when she realized it was over. Rough hands grabbed her shoulders and she stared into the desperate eyes of the man she'd grown to love.

"Rose, listen to me. You're going to run," he said.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm going to create a distraction and you're going to run."

Fear flooded her heart. He was going to sacrifice himself to save her.

"No," she whispered.

"It's the only way."

"I'm not going to do that."

"You have to. Either I die or we die."

She reached up and put her hands on his.

"Then _we _die. Together, yeah?"

He stared at her in horrified disbelief. She knew he could see the determination in her eyes because there was no way in hell she was ever leaving him. Not to die on his own. He swallowed.

"Rose," he whispered and she could hear the pleading in his voice.

"I told you, Doctor, I'm never going to leave you."

He pulled her into a hug and she clung to him, knowing it was the last thing they would ever do together, in this world at least. Tears slid down her cheeks. Why did the universe have to be so cruel?

She could hear the Cybermen drawing closer. He pulled back and she could see tears on his cheeks as well. He brushed her hair back, giving her a smile that she returned.

"Together?" he asked as he stood up.

"Together," she replied, taking his hand.

Then they were running.

"REBEL CELLS SPOTTED," one of the Cybermen called.

She pushed her legs to go faster as the Cybermen began firing. The TARDIS was only a few blocks away. The perception filter kept the Cybermen away. All they had to do was reach it and they'd be safe.

"DELETE," another Cyberman called.

Her body erupted in pain. She knew she was hit before she fell.

"Rose!" the Doctor yelled, but his voice was far away, clear on the other side of the pain.

The cement seemed to rush up to meet her and then there was nothing.

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	2. There's Always A Price

Rose opened her eyes. She was lying on the road, face down. _What am I doing here? _Then she remembered. The Cybermen. They…shot her, but they couldn't have because that would mean she was dead and she wasn't. She must have been struck by something else and only thought they shot her.

Slowly, she moved her head around, trying not to move her body in the process just in case the Cybermen were still here, but the alley seemed to be deserted. Then she spotted him. The Doctor. He was lying a few feet in front of her.

Was he? She got up and hurried over to him. He was lying on his back, beautiful brown eyes vacantly staring at the darkening sky. _No! God, no! _A tear slid down her cheek.

He was gone. They were all gone. She'd lost them all and now she was alone. More tears came as her body wracked with sobs. The Doctor had once called the Void hell the day he sent the Cybermen and Daleks into it, but this…this was hell. To be completely alone. Everyone she cared about gone or dead. Why hadn't they killed her? Why was she still alive?

Emotions churned inside of her. She didn't want this, none of it, Pete's World, the whole bloody universe could wink out of existence for all she cared. If she'd lost them, all of them, then she didn't want to be there. Suddenly, pain flared through her mind, burning like fire, blinding her with its intensity. She screamed, grabbing the sides of her head. If this was death she wished it would take her quickly, let her be done with this life.

She screamed again and then it was gone. The pain. The fear. The loss. All of it. And in its place there was so much more. Memories lost to her after she saved the Doctor from the Daleks. They were there now. Turning the Dalek Emperor to dust. Bringing Jack back to life. She knew why the Time Lord Doctor left her on the parallel world. It was the price. The price he paid for creating the human Doctor, for saving the universe. The price was her. She could never return to her universe, because everything had a price.

She glanced down at the body of the man Rose Tyler loved. She could feel the love for him, but not in the same way because at that moment she wasn't just Rose Tyler. She was also the Bad Wolf. She could save him. Save all of them. Extinguish the Cybermen in that universe forever. Make sure they could never return, but there would be a price and she knew what that price would be. She could never come back, never see them again.

A tear shimmered down her cheek. She would do it because she wanted them safe. Always. She stood up and closed her eyes, focusing the Time Energy. She could feel the Earth moving backwards as time reversed. Back…back…to the exact moment when the Cybermen slipped through. She found the weak point and before sealing it up she eradicated the creatures inside the Void. Daleks and Cybermen. Nothing survived.

She opened her eyes. It was done. She knew Rose would want to say goodbye, but there wasn't time. She could feel the Wolf becoming dormant, never gone forever, but lying in the background until she was needed. Her body would be weak, not only from dying and coming back, but from using the power of the Time Vortex and she had to make it to the TARDIS before her body slipped into unconsciousness.

She made her way out of the alley. Her legs grew unsteady with nearly every step. A few people milled around the streets and some of them gave her strange looks as she staggered a bit, but she ignored that. All that mattered was finding the TARDIS and getting inside before she collapsed.

She turned a corner and the police box loomed at the other end. The chameleon circuit as broken on that one as it was on the Time Lord's. The street swam in and out of her vision for a moment, making her bump into a woman in a business suit. The woman scowled, but Rose and the Wolf continued without giving her a second glance.

She pushed herself to go faster. Just a couple more feet. She pulled the chain off her neck and fumbled with the key. After a moment it slid into the lock and with a soft _click_ the door opened.

"Rose!"

Adrenaline flooded through her body at the sound of his voice. _No! No it can't be! _She spun around. The Doctor raced down the street toward her. How did he find her so fast?

It wasn't that she didn't want to see him, she did. The Rose part of her wanted to see him more than anything else, but there wasn't time. She couldn't stay. That was the price.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"Rose! Wait! Please!" he called.

He was almost to her and she knew he'd try to make her stay or make her take him with her. Neither of which she could do. If she did it would jeopardize everything and she wouldn't do that.

"Stop!" she yelled. "Don't come any closer!"

He slowed down, but didn't stop until he was within a meter of the TARDIS. He had the same desperation in his eyes that he had when he grabbed her shoulders behind that skip.

"I know what you did," he accused.

"Then you know why I did it."

"There has to be another way," he pleaded.

She could see tears shimmering in the corners of his eyes, making her heart ache, but there wasn't anything she could do.

"There isn't."

She had to leave.

"Please, don't do this."

He took a step toward her. She couldn't let him get any closer.

"I'm sorry."

She closed the door and threw the bolt. With the last vestiges of strength she had as the Wolf she told the TARDIS what had to be done. She stepped toward the console and stumbled as the Time Rotor began to move. She grabbed onto the railing, but the control room was swimming. As she slid to the floor she hoped that both Doctors would find someone because she didn't want them to be alone.

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	3. A Blue Box On Baker Street

Sherlock stared at the victim's photos and bits of evidence that were tacked to the wall. Three women had been attacked. None of them were killed, but they'd been roughed up quite a bit, purses pinched, but the motivation wasn't all about money. The attacker was escalating. Each victim had been roughed up worse than the last and there would come a point when there would be a body unless he found the attacker first.

The first victim had been leaving a pub and her description was sketchy at best. White male 20-30 years old, gloves, ski mask, his eyes might've been blue or brown, dark clothes and jacket, big. The second victim was leaving a club and her description was even worse. White male, middle aged, gloves, ski mask, maybe blue eyes, kind of tall, not sure about the clothes, maybe dark. The third victim was too scared to give a description and only reported the crime because an officer scared him off and the officer didn't get a look at him. Brilliant!

A strange sort of wheezing sound invaded his thoughts.

"John, turn that down," Sherlock insisted.

The noise persisted.

"John!"

He glanced over his shoulder to find the flat empty, but the noise continued. _Leaf blower? _It wasn't fall. Why the hell was someone using a leaf blower in the spring? The noise grew louder.

He wasn't going to get any work done with that annoying sound. He stepped over to the window intent on throwing it open and giving whoever was using the leaf blower a piece of his mind, but stopped when he caught sight of what was making the noise. Not a leaf blower.

A blue police box circa 1960's began…well…materializing was the best way to describe it, directly across the street from his flat. There was a light attached to the top that lit up at every wheeze. It materialized, dematerialized, materialized, dematerialized with that strange wheezing sound. What the hell was it?

Objects didn't appear and then disappear. That was impossible, but he couldn't deny what his eyes told him to be true. The wheezing stopped and there it was, a blue police call box, completely solid. He was about to rush out the door to get a closer look at it when a low _thump _stopped him in his tracks. The sound came from the blue box, but it seemed to resonate in the very air around him. Then the wheezing came again and the box, once again, phased in and out. Then it was gone.

He stood there, staring out the window. The victims, the photos, the evidence, even the attacker had been banished to the back of his mind. There was something…something about that box that seemed familiar, but it couldn't be. He'd never seen it before and with his photographic memory he would remember seeing something like that. And yet, he couldn't get over the odd sense of déjà vu he felt.

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	4. Locked Out

Rose opened her eyes. She knew where she was, TARDIS, control room floor. She also knew she was in a different universe because unlike the last time the Bad Wolf took over she remembered everything. This time had been different, she was different, but, then again, that all started with the first time.

From the moment she looked into the heart of the TARDIS, the Time Lord Doctor's TARDIS, she began to change. She had to or she wouldn't have been able to contain the Time Energy, wouldn't have been able to save him and that was her wish. She was human and a human can't contain the energy of the Time Vortex. So, his TARDIS changed her because that was the only way to save him. She was still human, but she was also something else.

The Doctor thought he removed all of the Time Energy from her, but he couldn't know that it wove its way deep enough inside of her that it became a part of her. The Bad Wolf was part of her and always would be, but it remained dormant, leaving her to be Rose Tyler until she needed it. She could access it, if she needed to, but she had to be careful. Access it too much and Rose Tyler would cease to exist. It would eat up that part of her that remained human.

The Bad Wolf protected her when the Cybermen killed her. She died, but the Bad Wolf brought her back. She remembered that and everything else that happened, but she didn't have the power the Bad Wolf had, didn't have access to the past or the future, but there was something. She could feel it. Inside her mind. A low hum and a bit of sadness that wasn't hers.

There was another presence. She glanced around the control room. She seemed to be alone, but she could feel the other presence. It was in the room with her.

"Hello," she called, hoping that whatever it was, was friendly.

She would fight if she had to, but she was still a bit weak and would rather avoid a confrontation at the moment.

The hum grew a bit louder and it felt like laughter, but she wasn't sure why it felt that way.

"Where are you?" she asked.

Her eyes were drawn to the console, almost as if she had no control. Slowly, she stood up and walked toward it. The hum grew louder and seemed happy. Wait. Was it? But it couldn't be.

She reached the console and gazed at the Time Rotor for a moment. It couldn't be.

"TARDIS?" she asked.

She felt the affirmation in her mind and, she realized, that's where the hum was. She was hearing it inside her mind. Is this what the Doctor heard?

"How?" she inquired.

The memory of two words floated through her mind. _Bad Wolf. _

"Will this go away, like she did?"

The feeling she got told her that it wouldn't. Good. At least she wasn't completely alone. She sighed. It wasn't the same as having her family there or the Doctor, but they were alive and that would have to be enough.

A tear slid down her cheek. She took a deep breath and brushed it away. She couldn't think about them. Not now. It was too soon. A distraction. That's what she needed. A planet, aliens, and a life or death struggle. That would get her mind off things. She smiled, thinking how mad that sounded, even to her.

"So," she said, reaching for the lever that would start the Time Rotor, "what do you say you and me explore this new universe?"

The moment she touched the lever an electric charge zapped her hand. She yelped and pulled her hand back. What happened? She grabbed the lever again. Another _zap. _She cursed. Another _zap, _this one to her other hand that had been resting on the console. She pulled it back.

The TARDIS. She glared at the cylinder that jutted out from the center of the console.

"What's your problem?"

It wasn't a yes or no question, but the feeling she got seemed negative. Like a no, but a no to what?

"I don't know what you want."

She reached for the lever again. Another _zap. _This one stronger than the last. She yelped and jumped back. What the hell?

"Okay, so you don't want to go. Is that it?"

Affirmation.

Brilliant. She wanted a distraction, but she wasn't going to get one because the TARDIS had decided to stay. She had no idea why the ship wanted to stay, but it didn't look like she was going to get a choice in the matter.

"So what am I supposed to do? Just sit here until you decide to leave?"

The door opened. She glanced at it. What the hell did that mean?

"What do you want?" she asked.

The console sparked very close to her. She jumped back.

"What's wrong?"

Another spark. This one bigger than the last, making her take another step back. She glanced at the open door, which was now behind her.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Another spark, even larger. Yes, the TARDIS definitely wanted her to leave.

"Okay, okay, I'm going."

She backed toward the door. She wasn't sure why the TARDIS wanted her to leave. Maybe there was something she was supposed to do. That or the TARDIS had gone mental. Could that happen?

As soon as she stepped out the door it slammed shut. She heard the bolt slide into place. Hang on. She grabbed the handle and pushed. Nothing. She pushed harder and was rewarded with a zap to both her palms. She let go of the door and stepped back.

Brilliant. The TARDIS locked her out. She sighed. Well, she turned around, hopefully there was fish and chip shop nearby. She glanced around the dark street. Right or left? With fifty fifty odds either way she opted for left.

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	5. A Scream In The Night

John stood next to Sherlock concealed by the side of a tall brick building, watching the club across the street. They'd been there for…he glanced at his watch, pressing the button to light the face so he could read the time…an hour.

"What're you doing?" Sherlock hissed.

"Checking the time," John replied.

"You're going to give us away."

John rolled his eyes.

"It's just a watch light."

"You might as well hang a sign over our heads."

He was exaggerating, as usual. He'd been irritated since last night, well, since John noticed he was acting a bit odd, which wasn't exactly new for Sherlock, but he knew there had to be a reason. That was when his friend told him about the blue police box that appeared outside their flat, which, of course, couldn't possibly happen, but Sherlock had seen it and, like the hound, it set him on edge.

"We've been here for an hour and nothing's happened," John said.

He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. It might be spring, but there was still a winter nip in the air, more than a nip. London wasn't exactly known for its warm climate.

"Your ability to state the obvious is astounding," Sherlock snapped.

It was cold and his friend was in a mood, which was putting him in a mood. If something didn't happen soon he might just head back to Baker Street and hang Sherlock's attitude.

"How can you be so sure he's coming here?" John asked.

Sherlock gave him a _don't be an idiot _look.

"Fine," he sighed. "How much longer, you think?"

"And how would I know that?" the detective asked.

"Same way you know everything."

"I don't know everything, John."

"Could've fooled me."

Sherlock scowled at him, opening his mouth to shoot off some reply when a woman's scream launched both of them into action.

"The alley," the detective announced, running across the street.

John hurried to keep up, but Sherlock's legs were longer, which made for faster running. He pulled his gun while he followed the detective.

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	6. Three Blokes And A Gun

Rose could have kicked herself. She hadn't meant to scream and wouldn't have if the man hadn't snuck up on her and scared the hell out of her. She could almost hear the Doctor. _I'm seeing a little girl, pig tails, eight maybe nine years old, frilly skirt. _She hadn't been the screaming sort in a long time.

"You don't want to do this," she said, backing up another step.

The alley, at least, she thought it was an alley, ended in a brick wall. One more step back and she was against the wall.

"Oh, but I do," the man sneered.

He was in his late twenties, wearing a ski mask and gloves. His eyes were hazel, that strange hazel that always seemed a different color depending on the light. She saw them when he grabbed her from behind, which was when she screamed. She stomped on his foot and ran only, it wasn't a through alley.

She would fight him if she had to, but she was still a bit weak. Then again, if he did kill her it wasn't as if she'd stay dead.

"No, you really don't."

He didn't have a weapon…scratch that. He had a scarf. What did he think he was going to do? Strangle her? Probably. Okay, now she didn't feel so bad about hurting him if she had to. He took another step toward her. He wasn't going to give her a choice.

He took another step. He was close enough now. She reacted quickly. She kicked his knee as hard as she could. It broke with a loud _snap_. He screamed, dropped the scarf, and crumpled to the ground, holding his injured leg. At that moment a man raced down the alley. She stood her ground, prepared to fight this one too if that was the case.

This new man glanced from the injured attacker to her, a look of surprise etched on his face. He slowed down as he drew closer. Rose stood there, waiting to find out whose side he was on. He put his hand out toward her, cautiously.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm all right, yeah," she replied. The attacker moaned in pain. "Better than him."

The attacker cursed at her. She replied with a smile. Another bloke joined them. This one had a gun. He pointed the gun at the injured attacker.

"What happened to him?" the new bloke asked.

"Seems he met more than his match," the first bloke replied.

He gave Rose a half smile and what seemed to be a look of admiration, but she couldn't be sure because she didn't know him. She gave him a smile in return.

"You did that?" the second bloke asked in disbelief.

"Self defense classes," she replied.

"Self defense?" More disbelief.

"I'll keep an eye on him while you phone the police," the first bloke said, taking the gun from the second.

"Me? Why can't you?"

"Low battery."

The second bloke sighed, pulled his mobile out, and stepped out of the alley. She wanted to get out of there before the police arrived. She didn't know anything about this universe and, although the other functioned pretty much the same as her old one, she knew there could be differences that could get her in trouble. Like there being another Rose Tyler. One who might be a criminal for all she knew and if there wasn't, well, that was another bag of trouble she didn't want to open.

"It seems you have everything in hand," she said, intent on excusing herself from the situation.

"You didn't learn that in a self defense class," the bloke said.

It was a statement, an _I know the truth _statement.

"I didn't?" she asked.

"No, you didn't."

"Must have. I mean, where else would I learn something like that?"

"Some type of training. I want to say military, but that doesn't fit."

"Never been in the military."

He gazed at her a moment.

"No, you haven't."

Another statement.

There was something about him. Something that almost seemed familiar. Not like she knew him, more like he reminded her of someone. She glanced toward his friend at the other end of the alley. She had to get out of there before the police arrived.

"Well, I really ought to be getting home," she said.

"Home?" he asked and there was something in his voice that told her he didn't quite believe her.

"Yes."

He gazed at her for another moment.

"Lestrade will want a statement."

"Lestrade?"

"The inspector."

Ah. Yeah, well that's exactly who she didn't want to talk to.

"Right."

She glanced at the other end of the alley wishing there was some way out of this. If she could only get to…

"Are you in trouble?" he asked.

"Sorry?" she inquired.

"You keep glancing at the alley entrance. You've been doing that ever since I sent John to phone the police, which tells me the thought of the police arriving makes you nervous. So, I'll ask you again. Are you in trouble?"

"No, I mean, I don't think I am."

"You don't think you are?"

"It's…complicated."

"Complicated how?"

At that moment, John, the other bloke, joined them. She was grateful for the interruption.

"Lestrade's on his way," John said. "Told him to send an ambulance."

"Why?" the tall bloke asked.

"His knee's clearly broken."

The sound of police sirens reached them. At that moment the attacker tried to scramble up. The thought of police seemed to have sent adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"I really wouldn't do that," the tall bloke insisted, cocking the gun.

None of them were paying any attention to her. She took that opportunity to inch her way around them. Then she hurried out of the alley. The sirens were growing louder. She ran in the opposite direction. She could double back on another street; take the long way back to the TARDIS.

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	7. The Disappearing Woman

I'm really glad you're all enjoying this so far! Thank you for all your brilliant comments. :)

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"I really wouldn't do that," Sherlock demanded, cocking the gun and training it on the attacker.

Not that he made it very far. His knee wasn't simply broken, as John thought. It was shattered. It would take more than a few surgeries to repair the damage, but, after staring at the photographs of his victims Sherlock believed he deserved every agonizing moment.

He wondered why the attacker was careless enough to choose a woman who could obviously handle herself. After Lestrade took her statement he intended to learn more about her. She was obviously…He glanced at her, only she wasn't there. He looked around the alley.

"John, where is she?" he asked.

His friend glanced around.

"I don't know," John replied.

"Weren't you watching her?"

"I didn't know I was supposed to."

_Brilliant! _He gave an exasperated sigh, shoving the gun into John's hand.

"Watch him," he said.

As he hurried out of the alley he noticed the mobile, the one he'd seen lying on the ground upon entering the alley, was still there. He bent down and retrieved it as he rushed toward the street.

"Where are you going?" John called, but he ignored his friend.

He paused at the street, glancing left and then right as the patrol cars, three of them, drew to a stop across from him. There was no sign of her. He let out a low curse. She must have slipped off when the attacker was trying to get away. How the hell was he supposed to find her now? He didn't even know her name.

"Where is he?" Lestrade asked, drawing up next to him.

"Alley," he replied, offhandedly as he lifted the phone and began examining it.

"This way," the inspector called to his men as he headed down the alley.

He paid little attention to the officers as they hurried past him. He had to find her. Not for Lestrade, he couldn't care less about her statement, that had been an excuse to keep her there. They caught the culprit and he'd be put away with or without her help. Although it would be a good deal easier with, but that didn't matter at the moment.

What mattered was the fact that, for the first time in his life, he'd looked at someone and been unable to deduce a back story or a present story for that matter. Oh, there were things he could deduce. She had some sort of training, but some sort was vague at best. She had a South London accent; her trainers were well worn, but not more than six months old, as if they got a lot of use. Her clothes were simple blue jumper, jeans, light jacket, but they were purchased from one of the more posh shops.

Finding her again would be difficult, considering he didn't even know her name, but if the phone belonged to her, a slight chance at best, it would be his best chance to locate her. Find out who she is.

He turned the phone over in his hands. There were scuff marks and ware, but the person who used it had steady hands and there was no engraving on the back, unlike John's phone. It was basic black, sleek design, and there was something odd about it. The design. Similar to others, but with a bit of difference that to anyone else wouldn't stand out, but to him, well, he'd never seen the like before.

He turned the screen on. He brought up the pictures. If it was hers perhaps…He smiled. The first picture to appear was of her and another woman, also blonde, but quite a few years older. Her mother? Most likely. He heard footsteps behind him and quickly turned the screen off.

"She's gone then," John said, stepping out of the alley and stopping next to him. "Why do you think she left?"

"She's in some sort of trouble," he replied, sliding the phone into his pocket before starting down the street to hail the nearest cab. He could get a better look at the phone once he reached the flat.

John fell into step beside him.

"Trouble? What makes you say that?"

"She was nervous about talking to the police."

"Geeze. Do you think she's done something?"

"No idea," he replied, raising his hand to stop a cab as it drove by.

"But you still want to find her?"

The cab drew up next to them.

"Definitely," he said, as he opened the door.

"But," John paused before climbing into the cab. "The way she broke that bloke's knee…She could be dangerous, Sherlock."

He gave his friend a smile.

"I hope so." John gave him an incredulous look. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "That _bloke _attacked three women. You've seen the photos. He was going to attack her. It wasn't as if she went out looking for him…" He paused. Had she gone out looking for him? She wasn't the type he normally targeted, much different from the other three victims.

"What is it?" his friend asked.

"Nothing just…"

John's brows drew together.

"Just what?"

Instead of answering, Sherlock ushered his friend into the cab and climbed in next to him. What if she had gone looking for him? Would she? Why would she? A vigilante? That might account for her evasiveness and why she slipped away before the police got there. She seemed the type to do things on her own. It would also account for her abilities, being able to shatter a man's knee cap with one kick. Yes, it made sense, but there was something… Something else, only, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It made sense, but it didn't. He sighed, turning his attention out the window. He didn't have her name, but he had her mobile and that was a very good place to start.

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	8. Forget

Rose raced up to the TADIS hoping she wasn't going to get another shock as she reached for the door. It opened easily and she rushed inside, closing the door and leaning back against it, laughing. She couldn't help it.

She felt the TARDIS's inquisitive presence and smiled at the console.

"Well, it wasn't a horde of aliens, but it was something," she said, crossing the room.

More inquisitiveness.

"This bloke tried to attack me," she laughed.

Now the TARDIS seemed worried.

"I'm fine."

More worry.

"Really. I'm fine."

The TARDIS was worse than her mum. She rolled her eyes.

"It's more than he can say and besides it wasn't as if I was alone the whole time. These two other blokes showed up and helped."

More inquisitiveness.

"I don't know who they were. I didn't exactly stick around to find out. They called the police and I left."

The TARDIS seemed to want to know why.

"I don't know anything about this place. For all I know there's a Rose Tyler here and that could get me into trouble."

The monitor lit up and began scanning something. She took hold of the screen.

"What're you doing?"

It dinged. She looked at what the TARDIS brought up. Rose Tyler didn't exist, at least, not in that universe.

"See? That's not exactly good either. If I give the name Rose Tyler and Rose Tyler doesn't exist then they'll think I'm lying about who I really am. Anyway," she said, straightening up. "I could use a shower, something to eat, and some sleep, not exactly in that order."

She crossed the room to the kitchen. The TARDIS seemed to be finished with her earlier fit, although Rose still wasn't sure why she'd been thrown out, but maybe the TARDIS had been disoriented and had to reconfigure something. New universe and all. Once Rose got a bit of sleep she planned on starting her new life. Traveling the stars with the TARDIS.

She couldn't help the sigh that escaped as she opened the refrigerator. Having the TARDIS was brilliant. She wouldn't be able to travel the stars without her, but it would've been nice to have someone else along. Someone she could have a proper conversation with. Someone she could laugh with. Someone's hand to hold, but everyone she cared about was in another universe. Two other universes if she counted the Time Lord Doctor and he always counted.

She knew she could find a companion, like the Doctor did, but after having the Time Lord Doctor leave her behind and then having to leave not only the human Doctor, but her parents and Tony too she didn't think she could do that again. She understood why the Doctor didn't like goodbyes. He didn't like endings.

She didn't die when the Cybermen killed her. Well, she did, but she came back. How many times would that happen? How long would she live? Not a human life because she wasn't entirely human anymore. Would she live for a hundred years? Two hundred? A thousand? More? She had no idea. If she traveled with companions how many goodbyes would that be?

She turned the burner on and started putting together a slapdash dinner. Eggs, ham, cheese, scrambling it together. She was paying more attention to her thoughts than what she was cooking.

Having someone else there would be nice, more than nice, but she couldn't do that. Not yet. It was too soon. She sighed again, pulling a plate out of one of the cupboards. She told the Doctor she didn't want him to travel alone and she knew the same could be said for her. Maybe someday she'd be ready to find a companion, but at the moment all she wanted to do was forget.

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	9. Something Interesting

Sherlock stepped into his flat and removed his coat, pulling her phone out of his pocket as he hung it up. He paid little attention to John as his friend followed him inside and closed the door. All of Sherlock's attention was focused on her mobile and discovering its contents.

He sat down in his chair and pulled up her list of contacts.

"I'm going to put the kettle on," John said.

Sherlock grunted in response as he heard his friend cross the room into the kitchen. The detective read through her recent calls. Nothing for three days, but before that there were quite a few calls from a place called Torchwood. Government? Perhaps. Military? It had that sort of a tone. He'd never heard of Torchwood before. Could be like Baskerville.

There were a few calls from something called Unit. That definitely sounded official and military. He'd never heard of Unit either. He would need to question Mycroft about them. Find out what his brother knew. He'd know if Mycroft was hiding anything. He always knew.

There were calls to her mother, father, and someone called the Doctor. Strange title. Her doctor? Or was it a code name? Seemed more like a code name. Was she military? She was trained. That was obvious, but military didn't seem to fit. Vigilante seemed more likely, though that didn't fit either.

He brought up her contacts. Dad. Obvious. Jack. A friend? An associate? He couldn't tell simply from the name. Jake. Another friend or associate? Mum. Again, obvious. Richard. Again, he couldn't be sure if the man was a friend or associate. The Doctor, but right below that The Doctor again. Why would she save the contact name twice? Two different numbers, but why hadn't she added the new number to the already saved contact? Were there two of them? Two Doctors? Why would there be two? Two different people with the same code name? Who were they? And how could she tell one from the other if she saved them both with the same title? Questions only she could answer.

He scrolled down. There it was again. Torchwood. What was it? Was it government? Military?

John sat a cup of tea in front of him and then sat in the other chair.

"Did you get a new phone?" his friend asked.

"No," he replied, hitting the call button on her mobile.

Instead of ringing he was greeted by a no service message.

"Then whose phone is that?"

"Hers."

He reached for his phone and paused. If it was government or military they might trace the call, depending on the level of clearance one would need.

"Hers?" John eyed him. "Hang on. You mean the woman from the alley?"

"I need your phone," he said, holding his hand out.

John pulled his mobile out and handed it over, but he was paying more attention to what Sherlock said than anything else.

"How did you get her phone?"

Sherlock took his friend's phone and dialed the number for Torchwood.

"She dropped it during her struggle with the attacker," he replied, offhandedly.

"So, you took that from the crime scene?" John asked.

The number rang once and then picked up.

"The service provider you are trying to reach-" a recorded message began.

_Damn! _He hung up.

"Does Lestrade know you have it?" his friend asked.

He scrolled down and found the number for Unit.

"Of course not, otherwise he'd have it locked up in evidence."

He typed the number for Unit into John's phone.

"Which is why you took it," John surmised.

"Obviously."

It rang once and again he was greeted by the recorded message. Neither of the numbers worked. Why didn't they work? It didn't make any sense.

"Hang on. Why are you using my phone?"

He glanced at John.

"I can't use mine. It might be traced."

"So, you'd rather they traced mine?"

Why did his friend insist on asking such ordinary questions when he'd found something so interesting?

"Ever heard of Torchwood?" he asked, ignoring his friend's anger.

John blinked.

"Torchwood?" His friend seemed to think for a moment. "No."

"How about Unit?"

"I don't…No, I don't think so."

"Neither have I." So, both numbers had been disconnected. Why? "Sounds official. Possibly military."

"Unit does sound…" John paused, eyeing him. "Hang on. Did you just call a secret military organization with my phone?"

"Probably," he replied with a shrug.

"Sherlock, that's-"

He sighed. John was completely missing the point.

"The numbers have been disconnected," he said.

"But you didn't know they'd been disconnected when you called."

He rolled his eyes.

"That's not the point."

"Seems like a fairly good point to me."

"Why does she have official contacts in her phone?"

"Maybe she works for the government."

"No, it doesn't fit."

"You don't even know her."

"I know enough."

"Well, I'd like my phone back, if you're finished with it."

Sherlock handed John's mobile over. Then he brought up the pictures on her mobile and began looking through them. There was the one with her and a woman who must have been her mother. Then another with her mother and a man, they appeared to be close. The woman's father? Possibly. They were at a party and…Hang on. He peered closer. But that can't be. He'd been in that room only it'd been…a bit different. The furnishings, the shade of color on the walls, everything was a bit off. And the people in the background. He didn't recognize any of them.

He brought up the next photo. The woman this time and a man. Not her father. He seemed about the same age as the woman, maybe a few years off. Brown hair, tan trench coat, pinstriped suit, red trainers. Odd choice. He was smiling at her and she mirrored his smile. They were at the same party and again, everything in the background was a bit off.

"What is it?" John asked.

"There's something…"

He turned the phone over. He needed a better look at those pictures. He glanced along the sides hoping he had an adaptor that would…Ha! He stood up and walked over to the desk, opened the drawer and pulled out the adaptor. Then he hooked the phone up to John's laptop and accessed the pictures.

"Have a look," he said, glancing at his friend.

John crossed the room and gazed at the screen for a few minutes.

"What am I looking at?" his friend asked.

"Pictures from her mobile."

"But that's just…" John leaned closer, examining the picture of the woman with the brown haired man. "Hang on. We've been there."

"It's one of the rooms we walked through when Mycroft _requested _our presence."

"You mean when he pulled you out of the flat in that sheet and sent a helicopter after me, yeah."

"I chose not to dress, but that's not the point," he dismissed. "Do you see?"

John glanced at the screen and then back to Sherlock.

"See what? That you're right, she must be involved in the government?"

"Look harder."

He watched his friend examine the picture again.

"I don't know what you mean."

Sherlock sighed. Once again, John was missing everything.

"Look at the furniture, the wall color; everything's a bit…off."

"So, they repainted and bought new furniture."

"It's the same furniture, but it's not the same furniture."

John gave him a confused look.

"Sorry?"

He sighed again.

"Look at that chair." He pointed to a chair behind the couple. It sat against the far wall. "The one we saw was oak, look at the color of the wood, that's clearly not oak. And that side table. Same thing."

"Maybe they didn't like the color of the wood."

Why couldn't John see it?

"It's the same room, but it's not."

"What do you mean, it's the same room, but it's not? That doesn't make any sense."

"It's the only thing that does make sense."

John stared at him a moment.

"It's been a long day. Maybe you ought to get some sleep."

"Sleep?" he asked.

How could he even think about sleep after discovering that? There was something going on. Something quite interesting.

"Yes, it's what people do." Ordinary people. John hovered for a moment. "All right, well, I'll leave you to those pictures then."

He sat down at the laptop as his friend headed up the stairs. He had to find out what was going on. How those pictures could be of a room he recognized, but not be the same room.

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	10. More Than Clever

It was gone. It was just…gone. Rose stood in the middle of the chaos that, an hour ago, had been her neat and tidy room. Her mobile. The last link she had to everyone she cared about, all the people she could never see again, was gone. It didn't work outside her old universe, well, the one that had become hers after the Time Lord Doctor left her there, but there were pictures, things that couldn't be replaced and now she'd somehow lost them, all of them.

She sat on her bed, resigned. How could she have been so careless? A tear slid down her cheek, but she took a breath before she lost it. Getting upset wasn't going to help. She needed to figure out where she last had the phone. Maybe it was still there. Maybe she could find it.

She ran through her morning. She woke, made coffee and a quick breakfast, dressed, tried to get the TARDIS to leave, got another shock, yelled at the TARDIS for being stubborn, got another shock, made a cuppa, and then retrieved her coat from the jump seat, where she left it last night, and reached for her mobile. That's when she found out it was gone.

She thought maybe she took it out of her pocket and forgot, but it wasn't anywhere, which meant…the alley. She must have lost it in the alley last night when that bloke grabbed her. The police might have found it, but there was a chance…a very slim chance, that it was still there. She'd take that chance.

She glanced around the room as she stood up. Her room could wait. She hurried out the door, down the corridor, and into the control room. Then she shrugged into her jacket and slipped out the door.

It was early afternoon. She must have slept longer than she thought. Well, she had died and come back recently. She felt fine now, stronger, stronger even than before. Her legs easily retraced her steps from the night before and it wasn't long before she neared the alley next to the club.

She slowed down, cautious, just in case. The police would have arrested the attacker. Not that she would've worried about him anyway. He was only human after all. It was the police she worried about. If John and that other bloke told them she witnessed the crime, not only that, that she'd almost been a victim herself they might hope she returned so they could get a statement, but she wasn't planning on sticking around long enough for a trail. And then there was that whole business with Rose Tyler not existing in this universe. That was a bag of trouble she didn't want to open.

She stepped into the alley, moving slowly, gazing around the ground as she moved. She couldn't see it. At least, not out in the open. There was a skip to the side. She couldn't remember going near it last night, but maybe her phone slid or someone kicked it. She looked around the skip. Nothing. She bent down and peered under it. It was too dark to see near the wall. She reached into her pocket, but before she could pull out her sonic, the one the Doctor gave her, someone spoke.

"Looking for something?" a man asked.

She recognized his voice from last night. The tall bloke. The one whose name she didn't catch. He'd been waiting for her. Why was he waiting for her? Was he with the police? No, that didn't seem right.

She was stuck though. There was only one way out and he was standing in the way. She stood up and turned around, giving him her best smile, the one that usually got her out of tight spots.

"I lost something. Thought I'd come back and have a look. See if I dropped it last night," she said.

"What did you lose?" he asked, but she could tell he knew exactly what she lost.

He had that _I know something you don't know _look. Same one the Doctor got. She dropped all pretences and eyed him.

"You know what I lost."

"Do I?" he asked, stepping closer.

She stood her ground, resting her hands on her hips.

"Yes, you do."

He pulled her mobile out of his pocket. She put her hand out, but he made no move to hand it over. Instead he gazed at her.

"What's Torchwood?" he asked.

She stared at him.

"Sorry?" she asked, taken back.

"Torchwood," he repeated. "What is it?"

There's only one reason he'd ask that.

"Have you been in my phone?" she snapped.

"You ran off before the police could take down your statement," he replied, as if that was an excuse, which it wasn't.

"You don't work for the police."

He raised his brow.

"You're right, of course, but I do help them on occasion."

"That doesn't give you the right to go through my things."

Who the hell did he think he was?

"What's Torchwood?" he repeated.

One track mind, that one. She sighed. The only way she getting her phone back was to answer his questions. She could always take it, but he wasn't like the attacker and she didn't want to hurt him.

"It's a company I used to work for."

"Government?"

She smiled at that.

"Not really."

"What do you mean, not really?" he asked.

"It's sort of…outside the government," she replied.

He nodded as if she'd confirmed something he suspected.

"Like Baskerville."

The name sounded vaguely familiar.

"What's Baskerville?"

"And Unit?" he asked, seeming to ignore her question.

"They're more official."

"Military?"

She couldn't help smiling. He was good.

"Basically, yeah."

He stared at her for a moment and she hoped he was done with his questions because she wanted to get out of there before anyone else showed up, but she should've known better.

"Who is the Doctor?" he asked.

Her eyes widened. The Doctor? How did he…and then she remembered. His number, both their numbers were saved in her phone.

"He's a…friend."

"A friend?" he asked and she could hear a bit of disbelief in his voice.

"An old friend."

"Both of them?"

Hang on. How did he know there were two?

"What do mean, both of them?"

"It's obvious there are two."

"Obvious?" she asked, raising her brow.

"You've saved the name twice. Two different versions of the same name with different numbers. If it were two numbers for the same person you wouldn't have created two different contacts."

He was good.

"I could've forgotten I saved his number."

"Two different numbers."

"Maybe he got a new number-"

"You would have deleted the old number and added the new one. You're not an idiot Ms…."

"Tyler," she replied and then realize her slip a moment later.

He smiled.

"Two different numbers. Two different Doctors."

He was clever, more than clever. She had to end this before he pried anymore information out of her. She stepped toward him and reached her hand out, but he pulled her phone away.

"I'd like my phone back, if you don't mind," she insisted.

"Just one more question," he said.

She caught his gaze.

"Fine."

"Who are you?"

"I already gave you my name."

"Ms. Tyler. Yes. But who are you?"

She didn't understand what he was asking.

"What do you mean, who am I?" she inquired.

"There are pictures on your phone. Pictures that were taken in places I've been, but they're not the same rooms. They are, but they're not." Her eyes widened. She knew what he meant. Rooms, parallel rooms, but he couldn't know, could he? "They're just a bit…off. Just a bit different. Little things most people wouldn't notice."

"But you noticed them," she said, before she could stop herself.

"To me, it was obvious. So, I'll ask you again, Ms. Tyler. Who are you?"

"I'm just a traveler," she replied, choosing to be honest, well, a bit honest.

"A traveler?"

"Yep."

"From where?"

She reached over and snatched her phone out of his hand.

"You said one more question. You asked. I answered." She eyed him. "I'm leaving now and don't even think about following me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, but she could tell he was going to do just that.

She turned and walked out of the alley. She didn't like the idea of him following her back to the TARDIS, but it wasn't like he could get inside and she was sure the TARDIS would move if they were in danger of being found out, at least, she was pretty sure. This one seemed to be more stubborn than the Time Lord's.

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	11. Blue Boxes and Blondes

Sherlock watched Ms. Tyler walk out of the alley. As soon as she was out of sight he pulled out his phone, and gazed at the, already open, GPS tracking app. The red blip that was her mobile flashed brighter and then dimmer as she walked down the street. He smiled.

He knew she wasn't going to be forthcoming and even if she had been he couldn't be sure she was telling the truth. There was something going on with her and he was determined to find out exactly what she was hiding, who she really was, and what she was up to.

The only way he was going to find the truth was to follow her back to wherever she was staying and have a look round. He was rewarded with part of her name when he threw her off her game, but she was quick to recover. When he showed up, unannounced, on her doorstep he knew he'd get some answers.

She turned the corner at the next block. He headed out of the alley, trailing her with his phone's help. He purchased the mini GPS chip early this morning, took the back casing off of her mobile, and easily incorporated it into the inner workings of her phone.

She turned the next corner and was…wait. She stopped. He paused. She seemed to be waiting. Hailing a cab? He hoped not. Well, he could still track her, but cab drivers tended to dislike customers who kept changing directions on them. Or, at least, the three he dealt with had. She was still standing there. He waited. What the devil was she doing?

Ah. Oh, she was good. She was waiting on him to see if he was following her. Wait. How good was she? Had she found the chip? Would she look for one? Oh, that wouldn't do. If she found the chip and removed it. He almost started running, to check, but she moved. Slowly again, walking pace. Not in a cab and she hadn't found the chip.

He started walking again. She was doubling back the next block over. He stopped, going over the streets in his mind. Then he turned around and started back the way he came. If she turned down another street then he'd go down to the street she was on, but he was closer and yet more concealed if he stayed where he was.

He paused, waiting until she was ahead of him the next block over and started walking again. He smiled. She was clever. He liked the clever ones, always something to look forward to.

She turned, heading down an alley, farther away from him. He turned the corner at the end of the street watching her progress down the alley and then…she was gone. Wait. He paused. The red blip just vanished. But that…He started running. Down the block, round the corner, across the street and paused. He was next to the alley she entered.

Had she found the chip and destroyed it? She must have. Slowly, he glanced around the building and down the alley. He froze, his eyes widening. It was, was it? He stepped into the alley. There was a blue police box circa 1960's sitting in the alley. Was it the same one he saw appear and then disappear? It must be. It wasn't as if there was one on every street or in every alley for that matter.

The police box was sitting in the same alley Ms. Tyler had gone down before the GPS stopped working. She must have gone inside. Would that cause the chip to stop working? If it were an ordinary police box he would say no, but ordinary police boxes didn't materialize and dematerialize.

He felt that strange sense of familiarity again and it unnerved him, but he had never let his emotions dictate his actions and he wasn't about to start now. He stepped toward it. She worked for a company called Torchwood, a company similar to Baskerville, had this police box come from there?

It wasn't, of course, a police box. That was a facade. It was something else entirely. Only, he had no idea what it could be. He touched the wood. It felt warm and there was something… something…he snatched his hand back. He…heard something. A sort of low hum, just for a moment when he touched it and then it was gone. _What the devil is it?_

Tentatively, he touched the wood again. Nothing. Had he imagined it? No, no he didn't do that sort of thing. It was there. He heard it. Whatever it was, was gone now. The wood still felt warm though. An engine. The hum could've come from an engine and that could account for the warmth. He smiled. It was brilliant whatever it was. He had to know.

He took hold of the door handle. He'd have to be quick to surprise her. There couldn't be much room inside, especially if it already contained an engine and Ms. Tyler. He pushed and the door opened easily.

He stepped into a vast room. Wait. What? The walls were paneled in metal with lights going up to the top. Oh. This was…There were large chunks of coral that ran from floor to ceiling centered around a console that took up the middle of the room and was stationed on metal grating that made up the floor.

"Impossible," he whispered, gazing around at the room.

It was the most impossible thing he'd ever seen. An entire room big enough to fit his whole flat had been squeezed inside the police box, no…he gazed around…not squeezed inside. The inside was…different. The outside was the facade, as he thought.

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	12. Impossible Detectives

Rose stepped inside the TARDIS, closing the door behind. She made it back and that bloke hadn't followed her, which was surprising and a bit disappointing, though she wasn't about to admit that, not that there was anyone to admit anything to. She had been sure he was going to try, but she hadn't seen him, even after waiting a few minutes.

Well, she sighed, crossing the control room. It was for the best. She couldn't stand to lose someone else. Best not even get attached. She felt the TARDIS' presence and it soothed her a bit. At least she wasn't entirely alone.

"I got it back," she said, grinning, even though there really wasn't anyone to grin at. "One of those blokes from last night had it. Thought he was going to try to follow me back, but I guess he found something else to do."

The TARDIS seemed a bit…sad? Possibly.

"Nah, its better that he didn't. Just you and me, yeah?"

The mood lightened and she smiled as she walked toward the kitchen. She grabbed the kettle and turned on the tap, filling it. She hoped the TARDIS would let them leave soon. For one, she was bored out of her mind and for another she didn't want to chance running into that bloke again. He was far too curious and that was a very bad thing. She put the kettle on and reached for a cup. That's when she heard it or him actually.

"Impossible," a man said, but not just any man. It was the bloke who had her mobile.

She crossed the room and gazed out the doorway. The bloke was standing in the control room, just inside the closed door. He gazed around the room and for the first time since she'd seen him he seemed almost…happy. The problem was he couldn't be there. No one could just walk into the TARDIS. It wasn't possible, which meant there was something going on. Something really not good. She stepped into the control room to confront him.

"How did you get in here?" she demanded, closing the distance between them.

"What is this?" he asked, indicating the room.

"Never mind that," she dismissed with a wave of her arm. "How did you get in here?"

"Through the door," he replied, as if that was the stupidest question he'd ever heard.

"No, that's impossible. No one can open that door without a key."

He raised his brow.

"I did."

He was lying. Had to be.

"No you didn't," she insisted. "The only way you could get in without a key would be if…" she paused and turned around, eyeing the console, well the glass casing. "Did you let him in?" She felt the TARDIS' confirmation. "Why would you do that?" The TARIS didn't answer.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked.

She glanced at him. He was peering around her, trying to find the person she was talking to, only she wasn't talking to a person, but he didn't know that and she didn't have time to explain things to some bloke who probably wouldn't understand anyway.

"Just…hold on a minute." His brows drew together and he seemed put off, but she was more interested in why the TARDIS let him in than offending him at the moment. She turned back to the glass casing. "I asked you a question," she snapped. The feeling she got was the same feeling of curiosity from last night. "You let him in because you're curious?" Confirmation. She sighed. The TARDIS was curious, which meant there must be something about him. Would the Time Lord Doctor's TARDIS have been curious? What did that even mean?

She turned back, glancing over the man standing in front of her. He was irritated, probably because she told him to hold on. His accent and clothes told her about his background. Posh. And the way he interacted with his friend last night told her he was used to people doing what he wanted. And that told her everything. Spoiled, arrogant, posh with a bit self-absorbed thrown in. What was there for the TARDIS to be curious about?

"Where you planning on answering me or do I need to repeat my questions?" he snapped.

"You're human, yeah?" she asked.

His eyes widened for a moment, but not in a _you found me out _sort of way. More of a _you're completely mental _sort of way. She smiled, knowing the answer. Definitely human.

"I'm sorry?" he asked.

"TARDIS and TARDIS," she replied.

He blinked, obviously confused. She grinned, almost laughing…almost.

"What?" he asked, as if he didn't know what she was talking about.

"Those are your answers. If you've forgotten your questions I could always repeat them."

He gave her a very ruffled, very indignant look and this time she did laugh. He glowered at her.

"I asked what this is," he said.

"And I answered," she replied.

"TARDIS."

When he said the name it almost sounded as if he recognized it. No, but he couldn't. He was human and they were in, well, she was in a parallel universe. Not the Doctor's universe.

"The TARDIS actually. Well, since she let you in I guess I might as well give you the tour. You can take your coat off too, if you like."

He removed his coat. He seemed less ruffled, but he was a bit…worried? No, he didn't seem the worrying sort, but there was something. He tossed his coat…she paused…he tossed his coat exactly where the Doctor, both of them actually, tossed their coats.

"Something wrong?" he asked, but his voice was devoid of actual concern, more curious, as if he might find something out by asking.

She caught his gaze and gave him a grin.

"Not at all."

Then she grabbed his hand, which he didn't seem at all used to, but then with his attitude that wasn't surprising. She pulled him toward the console. When they reached it she let go of his hand and gazed around, indicating the entire room with her arms wide.

"Welcome to the TARDIS, Time-" she began.

"And Relative Dimension In Space," he finished, gazing around the room.

Her eyes snapped to his. How did he…

"How did you know that?" she demanded.

"I…" he blinked and seemed genuinely baffled. "I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I…don't know," he repeated and now he was…concerned? Worried? There was something.

She eyed him.

"Who are you?"

"Sherlock Holmes," he replied.

Wait. No. What?

"Sorry…what?"

"Sherlock Holmes," he repeated, a bit irritated.

Was he joking? Had to be. Why would he be joking after all that?

"And now for your real name."

The indignation returned. He glowered at her.

"I assure you, Ms. Tyler, my name is Sherlock Holmes."

She stared at him. That wasn't possible.

"But you can't be."

"Why, exactly, is that?"

"Because Sherlock Holmes is-"

The monitor flared to life, taking the bloke by surprise. He took a step back. She grabbed the monitor and pulled it over. The TARDIS was searching for something. She felt the man, who couldn't possibly be Sherlock Holmes, draw up behind her. The monitor dinged.

A picture of the man standing behind her appeared along with the name Sherlock Holmes, his birth date, occupation, address, parents' names, brother's name and a few other bits of information.

"How is that possible?" he asked.

She was thinking the same thing, but about him.

"Haven't you seen a monitor before, Mr. Holmes?" she asked, glancing at him.

"But the computer searched on its own."

"Her own."

"I'm sorry?"

She stood up and turned around, eyeing him. He was curious about the TARDIS, but Rose was more curious about him. Not only how he could be who he was, but how he could know what TARDIS stood for and why she let him in. Were the answers related? Had she let him in because he knew? Why would he know? How could he know?

"How is it you can know what TARDIS stands for, but not know what she is?"

"Sorry?"

"The TARDIS, Mr. Holmes, is not a computer. She's a ship. A ship that can-"

"Travel in space and time," he finished.

Hang on. What?

"How do you know that?"

"I…"

"Don't know," she finished.

There was something going on with him. Was he human? Well, there was one way to find out. She pulled her sonic out.

"What is that?" he asked, eyeing the device.

"Sonic screwdriver," she replied, pointing it at him.

"That's not a…" He trailed off as she pushed the button, passing it over him. "What're you doing?"

"Scanning you."

She flipped it closed and looked at the reading. Human. One hundred percent human.

"Huh," she mused.

"What did your scan reveal?" he asked.

"You're human. Fully human."

"What else could I be?" he inquired with a smirk.

"Krilliantie, Dalek conversion," she caught his gaze and smiled. "You'd be surprised."

She walked around the console and grabbed the lever for the Time Rotor, hoping she wasn't going to get a shock again, but she had to find out what was going on. How he could be who he was and there was only one way to find out. She flipped the lever. No shock. The Time Rotor began to move. The TADIS rocked slightly. He grabbed onto the console to keep from falling over. She gave him a grin.

"What're you doing?" he demanded.

"I don't know about you Mr. Holmes, but I'd like some answers," she replied.

The TARDIS rocked the other way and he grabbed onto…

"Don't touch that," she said, waving his hand off the lever. He caught her gaze. "Pull that and we'll be thrown out of the Time Vortex."

The TARDIS rocked again.

"Time Vortex?" he asked, shouting a bit to be heard above the noise.

"It's what we're traveling through. It's the-"

She was cut off as the TARDIS landed, throwing them both to the floor. She laughed, rolling over on her side. He was lying on his back. She jumped to her feet and raced over to him, taking his hands and pulling him up. She laughed again, leaning against him and for a moment, a very brief moment, he smiled, not a smirk or the grin of a man who knew something she didn't, but a genuine smile. The sort that touched his eyes and then it was gone. At that moment she realized who he reminded her of. The Doctor, the Time Lord Doctor, but not the one who left her on that beach, her first Doctor. The one who rushed into a fleet of Daleks to save her.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand and running for the door. "Don't want to miss it."

"Miss what? What are you talking about?" he insisted.

She grabbed the door handle and paused, catching his eye.

"Sherlock Holmes," she replied, opening the door and stepping out with her hand still in his. "Welcome, to the day you were born."

* * *

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**Reviews are always welcome. :)**


	13. Sentiment

Sherlock stepped out of the ship, the TARDIS, and was stunned. Not only by the fact that they had moved, but also by where they…landed. They were standing outside his parents' estate, where he and Mycroft had grown up. His rational mind told him that they couldn't possibly be there. The Holmes estate was gone. His parents' sold it years ago when he and Mycroft had gone off on their own, opting for a smaller home for themselves.

Although his parents were wealthy they were more inclined to minimal, ordinary things. Not that he would fault them for that, at least, not openly, but they weren't like him or Mycroft. They were more ordinary. That's the trouble with genes.

He missed the estate though. Of course, he'd never admit that.

"Hang on," Ms. Tyler said, pulling him back into the TARDIS.

She closed the door and released his hand. Then she turned around and ran over to the console. He stood, staring at the closed door, wanting nothing more than to step back out and take the estate in once more.

"Sorry, must have gotten something wrong," she called, breaking through his thoughts.

He realized his hand was on the door handle and mentally shook himself. _What the hell am I doing? _He was being sentimental. He rolled his eyes, turning away from the door and crossing the room.

She brought him there for a reason. She'd been more than surprised by his name. As if she didn't believe he was who he claimed, no, it was more than that. As if she didn't believe Sherlock Holmes was…real.

She brought him back to the day he was born to…find answers. What answers? Proof. That's what she was after. Proof that he was born, which meant, she was looking for poof that he existed because in her mind Sherlock Holmes didn't exist. No, that wasn't quite right. She knew his name. It was his name that brought about her disbelief.

The TARDIS gave her proof that he existed. That he was who he claimed to be, but that didn't settle the matter with her. She still didn't believe he was Sherlock Holmes. She scanned him with that device…that…had she called it a screwdriver? The scan revealed he was human, which, of course, he was, but in her mind he could've been something else. Then she brought him back to the day he was born to, what? Witness his birth?

"Why have you brought me here?" he asked, drawing up next to her.

"It's strange," she mused, staring at the monitor. "It says we're where we ought to be, but…" she caught his gaze, "Were you born in a hospital?"

"Sorry?" he asked, taken by surprise.

"I've taken us back to the day you were born, but also the place you were born. Only she's brought us to some posh estate instead of a hospital and I don't know why-"

"The estate belonged to my parents," he interrupted.

"You were born here then, yeah?"

"Yes," he replied, remembering the story his mother told him when his brother tried to make him believe that his real parents were circus folk.

His mother told him the story of how he'd been born at the estate because her contraction were too close together to chance a trip to the hospital. Of course her exact words had been, _You were so impatient to see the world and all its wonders that you rushed out the first chance you got. _He felt Ms. Tyler take his hand. His eyes snapped to hers.

"You all right?" she asked and he could hear the concern in her voice. It was mirrored in her eyes.

"Yes. Fine," he replied, a bit snappish, but he was becoming sentimental again.

_What the hell is wrong with me? _He pulled his hand out of hers. Why did she keep doing that? He wasn't a child and even when he was he hadn't needed someone to hold his hand.

"Well, then," she said, turning back to the monitor, but her concern for him was still evident. "We're where we ought to be, but we need to take precautions."

"Precautions?" he asked.

What did she mean by that? Why would they need to take precautions? She caught his gaze.

"This is the day you were born. Or, at least, it's supposed to be."

"Supposed to be?" he asked, raising his brow and then he realized what she meant. "You believe there's a chance I wasn't born."

"You were born, obviously, or you wouldn't be here," she replied with a grin. "But were you born here?"

"Where else would I have been born?"

"That's a very good question. Anyway, we've got to be careful. Don't want to change anything," she explained, turning around and pulling a small box from under a set of seats that appeared to have come from the back of a car.

"Step on any butterflies," he replied.

Interacting in the past could be dangerous with disastrous consequences, but interacting in one's own past could prove fatal.

She paused, glancing at him and gave him what could only be described as a cheeky grin. He felt himself smile in return. Then he drew his smile into a scowl. _Why the hell do I keep doing that? _He'd done it twice now.

She returned her attention to the box and opened it, reaching inside to retrieve two chains. Each chain supported a key instead of a pendant.

"We'll be needing these," she said, closing the box and sliding it back into place.

They appeared to be ordinary door keys, but he knew better. She wouldn't have talked about precautions and then retrieved two ordinary keys.

"What are they?" he asked.

"TARDIS keys," she replied, standing up and walking toward him. "They have…well, I guess you'd call it a built in perception filters."

She leaned very close, standing on the tips of her toes to slide one over his head, coming to rest with her hands on his chest. He watched her intently as she adjusted the chain around his neck. When he first met her he thought she was clever and well adept at taking care of herself, something he admired, she wasn't a victim. She was a survivor. And he was right. Then he thought her mad, the way she talked about humans as if not being human was a completely ordinary occurrence. And he was right about that too. She clever and mad and the most un-ordinary person he'd ever met.

"There now," she said, brushing her palms over his lapels as she caught his gaze, grinning, but he was much too focused on her for any sort of response. "That'll do."

She stepped back and he was able to snap his rational mind back into place. How the hell was she able to do that? He glanced at the key around his neck to give himself something else to focus on. He lifted the key, examining it. She said it had something called a perception filter, which must have something to do with a person's perception.

"Perception filter?" he asked.

"It doesn't make you invisible, but it makes people not want to see you. So, it's sort of like being invisible, well, as long as you don't draw attention to yourself. Do that and the _spell _is broken. Now then," she said, putting her own chain around her neck and then stepping up to the console. "I'll just set the TARDIS to invisible. Just in case." She flipped the third switch to her left. "And we're all set."

She took his hand and hurried over to the door. He wasn't sure why she kept doing that, holding his hand, it unnerved him every time, but he was in a situation he'd never been in before. One in which someone else knew far more than him.

* * *

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)**


	14. Finding Answers

Rose pulled Sherlock back outside. There was something going on. Fictional characters couldn't just pop into existence, could they? She didn't think so, but then she didn't have the same experience the Doctor had. If he'd been there then she'd know for sure. He said Time Lords had been able to pop between realities before the Time War, which meant he might know and even if he didn't he'd have a theory, but the Doctor wasn't there. It was up to her to figure out exactly who Sherlock was. If he was, in fact, the actual Sherlock Holmes or if there was something else going on. She was putting her money on the something else.

Even if Sherlock Holmes did exist in some form in some parallel universe he would've lived a long time ago. Not in the present. At least, that was her theory and, at the moment, that's all she had to go on.

She stopped mid-step. There was something off. Something that shouldn't be there. She glanced around the yard, but it seemed empty. Still there was a feeling. She knew, but she had no idea how she knew.

"What is it?" Sherlock asked and this time there was a bit of concern in his voice.

"Something's wrong," she said without looking at him.

That's when she heard it. The same sort of sound the TARDIS made. She glanced back, but then remembered that she set the TARDIS to invisible. As the sound grew louder she realized it wasn't coming from behind. It was coming from her right.

"Is that-" he began, but she cut him off as she grabbed his hand and pulled him over to a large tree.

They ducked behind it and she released his hand. A TARDIS, another TARDIS. Was it the Doctor? She hoped not. Not that she didn't want to see him, she did, more than anything, but she couldn't go with him and if he found out that she wasn't entirely human anymore he might insist on taking her with him. That was a whole bag of complications she couldn't deal with, not after losing everyone she cared about because she wasn't sure if she was strong enough to resist the temptation and the consequences would destroy their universe.

She held her breath as the noise grew louder. It couldn't be more than a meter or two from where they were hiding. Cautiously, she glanced around the tree as the _wheezing _receded, but nothing appeared. It landed. She heard it land. Was it…her question was answered at that moment as an invisible door opened. A man she didn't recognize stepped out. The Doctor? Had he regenerated? A woman followed a moment later. They were both wearing strange robes and the woman was holding something.

"Come," the man said, taking a step toward the estate, "we don't have much time."

The woman stood where she was. She seemed worried.

"Is it safe?" she asked.

"Yes. I've told you that."

"But," the woman glanced from the estate to the man, "humans though."

The man's face grew softer as he stepped back toward the woman, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, comfortingly.

"I know, but they're kind. They have a son a few years older," the man said, gazing down at the…and Rose realized the woman was holding a baby, wrapped in a gold blanket. "I went back. I watched the way they care for him."

The woman still seemed reluctant and Rose couldn't blame her. They were leaving their child. Why would they do that? What could make parents abandon their baby?

"Are you sure it's the right choice?" the woman asked, as if she could hear Rose's thoughts.

"What other choice is there? The war has turned. Gallifrey will fall."

Gallifrey? Rose sucked in a breath. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the noise.

"But there are rumors. The High Council is in session as we speak. The Lord President means to initiate the ultimate sanction."

"You know as well as I that the Doctor will never allow that."

Rose felt her eyes mist over. The war. The Time War. Sometime in the near future, a day, a week, she had no idea, but soon the Doctor would make the choice to destroy his own people to save everyone else. She felt someone take her hand. Sherlock, that's who it was. He didn't seem the sort to do that kind of thing, but she was grateful.

"We could run," the woman suggested.

"Running would be criminal. That's not who we are and that's not how we want to raise our son," the man replied. "Come, it's time."

They made their way to the door of the large estate house. Rose leaned back against the tree and let out a long sigh. It was almost too much. Knowing how close she was, not only to the Doctor, but the day he was forced to make a choice that would haunt him for the rest of his life. She couldn't help him, she knew she couldn't. Even if she managed to figure out how they passed between universes he still had to do it and she couldn't be there for him because if she had been he would have remembered.

She sighed again and that's when she realized Sherlock was still there. This wasn't about the Doctor or her. This was about him. She released his hand, hurriedly wiping her eyes as she glanced at him.

"Sorry. I don't normally do this sort of thing anymore," she said, giving him a grin, well, as much of a grin as she could manage at that moment.

He seemed…well, he almost seemed as if he wanted to say something or do something. To comfort her? Yes, she got that sort of feeling, but he wasn't entirely sure what to do or say. She glanced back around the tree. The porch was empty. They must have gone inside.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand and racing back for her TARDIS.

She didn't need to see anymore. She didn't know exactly who Sherlock was, but she knew what he was. She remembered her friend Shareen once asking, after a particularly bad date, if Rose thought she was a magnet for tossers. Rose now wondered if she was a magnet for Time Lords. First the Time Lord Doctor and then the human Doctor, even though he was human he was still in a way part Time Lord, and now Sherlock.

She opened the door and pulled the detective inside. They couldn't go anywhere yet, not until the other TARDIS was gone. It was too risky. If Sherlock's Time Lord parents detected another TARDIS they might take him somewhere else or run or take him back to Gallifrey. She couldn't chance changing things.

She glanced at Sherlock. He looked, well, conflicted was the best way to put it. As if he wasn't sure what to do. She knew what her mum would say in this situation.

"Tea?" she asked, giving him a grin and then crossing the room toward the kitchen.

* * *

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)**


	15. Identity Crisis

All right my lovely humans and non-humans, I've got a bit of time so thought I'd get another chapter written. Hope you enjoy it! :)

* * *

Sherlock heard her cross the room to what he assumed was some sort of kitchen, but he wasn't paying attention to that. His rational mind was far too busy battling what he witnessed, what couldn't possibly be true. He walked across the metal grating of the floor and sat down in the only available seat, which looked as if it had been removed from the back of a car. It wasn't his chair, but it would have to do.

He sat back, staring at nothing as he went over everything he'd learned and the events he witness, which all led to one conclusion. He, Sherlock Holmes, was a fraud. He wasn't who he believed himself to be. He wasn't even human. What the hell was he? Who was he?

Before Ms. Tyler his entire life had been based on facts. Facts and scientific evidence. Fact one, he was Sherlock Holmes. Fact two, not that it ever came up, but he was human, whether he liked it or not, and had, very rarely, fallen prey to human emotions. Fact three, he knew who his parents were and who his brother was, again, whether he liked it or not.

He went over everything he could recall from his childhood, which was everything. He couldn't find one instance that would suggest he was anyone other than who he believed himself to be. No hidden looks, misplaced words, nothing that would indicate his parents had been hiding a secret, especially one of this magnitude. And there was Mycroft. If his brother knew, even suspected, he would've gleefully revealed the truth. His brother had, on more than one occasion, tired to make him believe that he wasn't part of their family. That he had been found under a bridge, left by circus folk, lost over some card game, abandoned on the side of the road, or, Mycroft's favorite, a genetic experiment gone wrong, Mycroft being the one that had gone right.

All of that pointed to one conclusion. Neither his parents nor Mycroft knew. How could they not know? How could his mother have memories of his birth if she hadn't given birth to him?

He felt someone touch his arm, bringing him out of his thoughts. Something no one had ever been able to do. He would have known it was Ms. Tyler even if the room had been filled with hundreds of people. She had that effect on him and he wasn't at all comfortable with it. Human contact, emotions, caring, it wasn't his area and where he could shrug off or ignore that with others her presence was insistent. As if there was some connection between them.

His mind jumped on that realization. His parents traveled in a TARDIS, the noise was unmistakable. Ms. Tyler traveled in a TARDIS. They mentioned a war and the Doctor, who must be like them. She recognized the name, more than that, it had made her quite upset, which made him want to do something he didn't do. Comfort her, it was a strange feeling, this need to make her feel better. He'd grappled with what to do, things like that not being his area, and why he felt the need to do anything. That, in itself, solidified his belief that they shared some form of connection.

He turned to her to ask the question that formed in his mind and froze from the look she wore. Concern, deep concern, for him and…guilt? Yes, there was guilt behind her hazel eyes. He'd never seen that sort of look directed at him and he again felt the need to make her feel better, to take that look from her eyes. He shook himself, focusing on finding answers. That's what he wanted, not to comfort this woman, he wanted facts.

"Are you one of them?" he asked, hating that he didn't know the proper name.

"No. I'm not a Time Lord," she replied.

"Time Lord," he repeated, feeling the same familiarity he'd felt when he spoke the word TARDIS. It was as if he knew the words. Their meaning just outside his mind palace. In a place he couldn't reach. "That's what I am then."

Not a question, but she answered.

"Yes."

He caught her gaze.

"When you scanned me with that device that…"

"Sonic screwdriver."

"You said one hundred percent human."

"I didn't consider you might be a Time Lord."

Something in the way she said that gave him pause. His…biological parents mentioned a war. If not being human was an option, but being a Time Lord wasn't…

"They mentioned a war."

Her eyes grew pained. Yes, she knew about the war. Had she been there? No, it was more of a sad memory, not like John remembering the battlefield.

"It was the Last Great Time War." She struggled for a moment, as if she wasn't sure she should elaborate and then she drew in a breath and caught his gaze. "I wasn't there, but I know someone who was."

"The Doctor."

Now there was pain and loss and something else.

"Yes, and if he were here he could explain it better, but he's not. There was a war between the Time Lords and another race called the Daleks, but it wasn't for money or land or anything like that. It was for all of creation."

Wait. What? All of creation? What did that even mean?

"Sorry…what?" he asked, in disbelief.

"Every world, every galaxy, every universe."

"Everything? How is that even possible?"

"I don't know, but it is and I know that Daleks want to destroy everything that isn't Dalek. I've seen it firsthand." A faraway look crossed her eyes. A memory. Yes, she knew the Daleks. "They're as bad as it gets. Your people, the Time Lords stood up to them, fought them."

"If they won then why were you so surprised by the fact that I'm…" he trailed off, still unable to say it out loud because his mind wasn't prepared to believe that he wasn't human. Wasn't who he believed himself to be.

"Because they didn't win." Wait. What? "No one won. They died. All of them."

"How?" he asked and then answered his own question with the name they mentioned, a name she knew. "The Doctor."

She said she knew someone who'd been there and she knew the Doctor. He was a Time Lord. He must have been there and if he was there and survived he must have had something to do with ending the war.

"Yes."

"What did he do?"

"The war turned. The Daleks were winning and the Time Lord's High Council made a decision to initiate something called the Ultimate Sanction, which would have destroyed all of creation, but left them to survive."

"Wait. If the Time Lords were fighting a war to save all of creation why would they choose to destroy it?"

The idea of a war over all of creation was impossible. Or, at least, it seemed impossible, but she spoke the truth. There were not slips, no tells that would suggest otherwise.

"Because they changed. The war didn't last a few months or a couple years. It spanned lifetimes, human lifetimes. Being at war for that long changed some of them. The Doctor had to make a choice. Allow all of creation to be destroyed or save it."

He could see the unshed tears in her eyes and that horrid feeling to comfort her returned, but he had to know. His need for answers overrode everything else.

"He killed them. All of them," Sherlock concluded. "How?"

"He locked the war. He called it a time lock. He said it was a sort of bubble, not an actual bubble, but that way nothing outside of it would be affected. Then he used a weapon called The Moment. Everything inside the bubble was destroyed."

"But not him."

Which led to only one conclusion.

"Sorry?" she asked, obviously having heard something in his voice.

"The Doctor. He survived. If he destroyed everything inside the time lock then he must have been outside, but if he was how could he use a weapon that was inside."

"He could've used the TARDIS," she suggested, but she was wrong.

"No. Not if everything outside the time lock remained unaffected." She gave him a confused look. He could see it, why couldn't she? "In essence you have two points. The point inside the time lock and the point outside. Both points are entirely separate. One point cannot affect the other, which means you could not be in one point and affect anything in the other. To be outside the time lock and detonate a weapon inside he would have had to drop the time lock. To be inside and detonate the weapon would have killed him."

"They're alive?" she asked and her eyes lit up as she smiled.

He couldn't stop himself from returning her smile. How was she doing that? He shook himself, focusing on her question.

"That would be the logical conclusion," he replied.

"But…he really believes he killed them. Why would he think that?"

"It seems his memory was altered in the same manner my parents' memories were changed."

"Why?"

"That, Ms. Tyler, is an excellent question. Now," he said, standing up and straightening his suit, which for some reason made her smile, "I believe you mentioned tea?"

Solving things, riddling out the truth was what he did and doing so made him feel more like himself. Human or not he knew exactly who he was, Sherlock Holmes, and he wasn't about to let anything change that.

* * *

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)**


	16. What Is It To Be A Time Lord?

Rose entered the kitchen, watching Sherlock busy himself preparing their tea, but she could tell he was still thinking. He probably never stopped, like the Doctor. Was that a Time Lord thing?

She gave the wall a bit of a glare. The TARDIS knew. She had to have known. That was why she let him in. Was that also why they were there? Had the TARDIS somehow sensed there was another Time Lord and that's why she chose that parallel universe? It made sense. The TARDIS would have been drawn to another Time Lord like a moth to a flame.

They were originally gown on Gallifrey. Hers had been grown on Pete's World, but she came from the Doctor's TARDIS. Wait. Was she still Rose's TARDIS? If Sherlock was a Time Lord would that…she pushed the thought away. That could be sorted later. First, she had to sort the detective.

"So," Sherlock said as she drew up next to him. "What is it to be a Time Lord?"

"Sorry?" she asked, not entirely sure what he meant by that.

He handed her cuppa over and then picked his up and leaned back against the counter.

"Obviously they're biologically the same as humans otherwise your device," he motioned toward her pocket, "wouldn't have gotten the results wrong."

She grinned at that.

"Time Lords and humans look the same, but biologically they're very different."

Sherlock eyed her. He'd been about to take a drink, but at her words his hand lowered.

"Different?"

She could see the gears in his mind speed up as he tried to work out what she meant and how it was possible for her scan to be wrong if one couldn't be mistaken for the other.

"I can't get into a lot of details. Mainly because there's a lot I don't know, but their respiratory system is different. I remember the Doctor mentioning on more than one occasion about his superior Time Lord respiratory system." She took a sip of her tea and smiled. He was good at tea. "Oh, and they have two hearts."

"I'm sorry? Two hearts?"

"One on the left and one on the right, yeah," she replied, motioning from the left of her chest to the right.

"Then I'm not a Time Lord."

A statement not a question and one he was completely wrong about.

"Oh, no, you are. Well, not at the moment, but you were born a Time Lord."

"Wait. How could I have been born a Time Lord, but be human now?"

"That's Time Lord science for you," She replied with a grin, as she set her cup down.

"Time Lord what?" he asked.

She took the cup from his hand and set it on the counter then took his hand in hers and led him from the kitchen.

"Come on, I'll show you."

She released his hand, stopping at the console and glanced over it. Where was that switch? She bumped it, during one of the Doctor's not so easy landings, which brought the device down from the ceiling. It was so odd looking she had to ask what it was. That launched him into one of his long winded explanations. This one about Time Lords turning themselves human and how he had done that, well, the other him, to hide from The Family. Good job too or she wouldn't have known how Sherlock could be human, but also be a Time Lord.

She spotted the switch and flipped it. The Chameleon Arch lowered, which looked like a shiny metal helmet with wires and cables coming off in different directions. Sherlock seemed completely fascinated by the device if that look he wore was any indication. He had the same look the Doctor got when he came across a bit of science or some new device he hadn't seen before. She grinned.

"This is the Chameleon Arch," she explained.

"What does it do?" he asked, touching the device as if he might discern exactly what it was, which brought out another grin from her.

"It rewrites every cell in your body to register as another species."

He caught her gaze in disbelief.

"This device turns one species into another?"

"Yep."

"But that's impossible."

She smiled.

"As impossible as a ship that's bigger on the inside and can travel in time and space?" she asked.

He glanced around the TARDIS and then back to her. Yep, now he was getting it.

"How does it work?" he asked.

"The Time Lord places a fob watch in this compartment," she pointed out the area the Doctor showed her, "picks a species, puts on the arch and flips the switch. The watch absorbs all their memories, everything about them that it is to be a Time Lord. They're given new memories, human memories."

"And you believe this was done to me?" he asked, catching her gaze.

"It's the only way I know of that you would scan as human, but not be human." She looked at the arch, wanting to focus on something else as the memories surfaced. "The Doctor did it once. Turned himself human with the Chameleon Arch. There were these creatures, these aliens, called The Family and they were hunting him. They could track Time Lords like bloodhounds. So, he made himself human to hide from them." She remembered then what the Doctor said about bits of his life as a Time Lord bleeding through. She caught Sherlock's gaze. "What do you dream about?"

"I'm sorry?" he asked and she could tell he was taken back by her question.

"The Doctor said when he was human he dreamed about his life on the TARDIS. All the battles he fought and…people he lost." She was one of his dreams. "He thought they were just dreams, but they were memories bleeding through."

"I don't dream about blue police boxes or aliens from other worlds, if that's what you're asking." He paused in his examination of one of the wires. "If this was done to me then-"

She caught his gaze.

"There's a fob watch out there with part of you trapped inside," she finished.

"I don't-" he began.

But the rest of what he was going to say was cut off as the TARDIS door opened. What? Rose turned toward the door as Sherlock stepped beside her.

* * *

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)**


	17. The Trouble With Parents

The door opened and they stepped inside. First the man and then the woman. Sherlock's Time Lord parents. This was bad. Really extremely bad. She watched them gaze around the control room, taking in the coral theme.

"I told you I detected another TARDIS, Marissa," the man said.

"And you were right, as usual, is that what you want to hear?" the woman replied. Marissa glanced across the control room, noticing both of them.

This was dangerous. Very dangerous. One wrong word and everything would change.

"Hello," the woman said, crossing the control room. "This must be your TARDIS then?"

The man hurried in front of her.

"Who sent you? Was it Rassilon? Does the High Council know?" he demanded with such authority in his voice that Rose found herself frozen on the spot.

"I…um…" she stammered.

"Hello," Sherlock said, stepping in front of Rose and extending his hand to the man while giving him a smile. "I'm so glad we ran into you lot." The man reluctantly shook his hand. "Having a bit of bother with the engine after running into some turbulence. Had to make an emergency landing."

The man's face relaxed and he began to glance over the console.

"You used the stabilizers?" he asked, indicating a lever, one she'd never seen the Doctor use. That's what that was for.

"Stabilizer?" Sherlock asked, as if he had no idea what the man was talking about, which he didn't, but Rose could tell that was also part of his act. He was good.

"Didn't they teach you about the stabilizers during training?"

"I must have-" Sherlock began.

"It's him," the woman interrupted and a moment later she raced to the console and took the detective's face in her hands.

Definitely not good. Marissa knew who Sherlock was. Rose could see that. _Damn! _She should've known how dangerous it was. They shouldn't have come, but then she had to know who the detective was. How he could be who he was.

"Sorry?" Sherlock asked.

"Marissa, what are you doing?" the man demanded.

"Can't you see it, Ranald?" she asked. "It's him." She glanced at the man. "He's our son."

"What are you going on about?" Ranald demanded, stepping around Sherlock to stand beside his wife. He looked at the detective, really looked and a look of surprise crossed his features. "It is you."

"I believe," Sherlock said, taking a step back. "You've mistaken me for someone else."

Rose knew if they weren't careful things could go horribly wrong, more wrong than they'd already gone. She had to stop this train wreck before it crashed. So, she looped her arm through Sherlock's and gave him a grin.

"I think they've figured it out," she said. Then she turned her grin on the two people standing in front of them. "I wanted to see it, you know. He told me the story so many times. How his parents saved him and all. He said it was dangerous, kept going on about crossing his own time stream and all."

"Who and what are you?" Ranald asked, eyeing her.

"Rose," she said, extending her hand. "Rose Tyler. I'm human."

She didn't want to get into the fact that she wasn't entirely human anymore, mainly because she wasn't sure what they'd make of that. He shook her hand, but in a very _I don't want to _sort of way. Marissa gave her an appraising look and didn't seem to like what she saw. The Doctor had told her that other Time Lords weren't too keen on humans, but she thought, since they left Sherlock with a human family they might've been different. Seemed she was wrong.

"Who is she?" Marissa asked, directing her question to Sherlock who was giving his Time Lord parents a very distasteful look.

"She's my-" he began.

"Companion," she finished, knowing what that look meant.

She'd seen it on the Doctor's face many times and it usually came right before he came to her defense, but that wouldn't do in this situation. They were Time Lords, raised on Gallifrey. To them humans were inferior and if they thought their son believed different they might change their minds about leaving him there, which would change history and she couldn't let that happen.

"Your companion's human?" the woman asked.

Marissa still seemed unhappy with the idea, but Ranald's face relaxed and he gave her an appraising once over, different from the one his wife had given. He smiled, but it was the sort of smile she'd been given by blokes in pubs. Sherlock's brows narrowed.

"Leave the boy alone, Marissa. He's at that age, sewing his oats and all," the man replied.

"You haven't brought her home have you?" Marissa asked.

"Of course not, the boy's not an idiot. He knows inferior species, such as humans, aren't allowed on Gallifrey," Ranald quipped. "Just because he's shagging-"

"Yes, well," Sherlock snapped as he spun them both around and ushered them to the door. "If memory serves you two don't have time to spare."

"Right you are, son," Ranald said, glancing at his wife. "Takes after his father, that one."

"I'm sure we could spare a few minutes," Marissa said.

"You really can't," Sherlock insisted. "Wouldn't want to jeopardize things. You know how delicate time travel can be." He opened the door. "It was lovely seeing you again. Goodbye."

He closed the door as Rose came up behind him laughing. She knew that display had a lot to do with the way they treated her and that he'd probably never admit it, but she didn't care. He chuckled, not an actual laugh, but close.

"How do you know about time travel being delicate?" she asked with a grin.

"I'm sure I read about it somewhere," he replied. She raised her brow. "Or heard it on a program John forced me to watch."

She laughed, taking his arm and leading him back to the console.

"That was brilliant." She paused, catching his gaze. "They were your parents though."

"Please," he scoffed. "They were little more than strangers."

"Still."

"I've met enough people like that in my life. I'm better off without two more."

She knew what he meant, but they were still his parents and after losing her whole family it was hard for her to believe that anyone would be better off without them. No matter how they acted, but it was his choice. She flipped the lever for the Time Rotor, launching the TARDIS into the Time Vortex.

* * *

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)**


	18. Right London Wrong Time

"Perhaps you should use the stabilizers he mentioned," Sherlock shouted over the noise as the TARDIS pitched from side to side.

"Right," Ms. Tyler replied, flipping the blue switches the next panel over.

The ship calmed and the noise quieted. He stood up, releasing the console he'd been holding onto and straightened his suit. Again, Ms. Tyler gave him a strange smile. He focused his attention elsewhere before he was tempted to smile in return. She had that effect and it was unnerving.

He couldn't allow himself to fall prey to silly human emotions. He assumed, after Ms. Tyler revealed that he was a…his mind still wasn't ready to accept the idea so he let the words drift away. He had assumed that being what he was, was why he was able to distance himself, but upon meeting his biological parents he knew that wasn't the case. It appeared that not being human didn't mean not having emotions.

He often wondered if he was adopted, not merely on the occasions when Mycroft tried to make him believe that was the case. Mainly because of him being the way he was and his parents, the ones who raised him, being who they were. Ordinary. It seemed personality was more than simply biology.

"Sort of boring now, don't you think?" Ms. Tyler asked.

He glanced at her.

"Sorry?" he inquired, not entirely sure what she was referring to.

"The TARDIS."

Ah.

"We won't be thrown to the floor this time when we land."

"I always love that bit."

She gave him THAT smile. She'd done it twice now and each time he lost all control of his mental facilities. Before he knew what he was doing he spoke.

"You could always turn them off, if you prefer," he replied.

Wait. _What the hell did I just say?_

"You don't mind?" she asked, taking his arm and squeezing up next to him.

His eyes widened for a moment at her intimate contact.

"No," the word came out quieter than he intended and he cleared his throat. "Not at all."

"Brilliant!"

She flashed him another…cheeky…yes, that was word…cheeky grin. At least, that's the way he imagined John would describe it right before he shot Sherlock a grin and retorted some comment about children's names.

"Shut up, John," he snapped.

"Sorry?" Ms. Tyler asked.

He glanced at her. She stood on the other side of the console with her hands on the stabilizers.

"Nothing. Just…thinking aloud," he dismissed. "I believe you were about to turn those off."

"Right," she replied, giving him a grin.

She flipped the levers. The TARDIS pitched again, twice, and then he was thrown to the floor. He could hear Ms. Tyler's laughter. He felt a smile form as he experienced that same warm sense of…what the hell was it? It was the same feeling he got when he worked out a particularly difficult puzzle. How the hell was she able to do that? He shoved the feeling aside, but at that moment he felt her hands take his as she helped him off the floor.

Once again, she leaned against him sporting that cheeky grin and it was all he could do to stop himself from…The console made a strange sort of noise, drawing his attention. There was a device there that hadn't been there before. Similar to the device in Ms. Tyler's pocket.

"What's that?" she asked, releasing him to race over to the console.

He followed, feeling a strange sense of disappointment that her attention had been distracted from him. Sentiment. He shook himself.

"What is it?" he inquired, focusing on the device and its sudden appearance.

"It's a sonic," she said, reaching for it, but when she touched it a loud _snap_ sounded and she pulled her hand back.

"Are you all right?" he asked, taking her hand and examining it for any injury, his entire being completely focused on the fact that she had somehow been hurt.

"Yeah, she just shocked me is all."

"She?" he asked, finishing his examination and finding no obvious injury.

"The TARDIS."

Ms. Tyler referred to the TARDIS as a she before. Why was she doing that?

"Why do you call the ship a she?"

"Because she is. TARDISes are grown, not built. They're alive."

Hang on. Alive? How was that possible?

"The ship's alive?"

"Yep."

Which meant the TARDIS knew exactly what it…she was doing.

"Then the ship shocked you on purpose?"

He was still focused on the fact that she had been hurt and now knowing it was on purpose made him want to…He shook his head. She was fine. _What the devil is wrong with me? _

"They can't communicate like us. It was her way of telling me the sonic's not meant for me."

What did she mean by that?

"Who's it meant for then?"

"You."

Hang on. What? Him?

"Me? Why me?"

"Because you're a Time Lord."

What did that have to do with anything?

"And?"

"And they go together. Time Lord's and TARDISes."

"But I'm human," he pointed out.

"Now, yeah, but she knows," Ms. Tyler replied. "You can take it, but you'll have to let go of my hand first."

She gave him that cheeky grin, but he managed to keep a few brain cells active long enough to release her hand. He turned to the console, reaching for the sonic as he tried to work out how he'd been holding her hand their entire conversation and not noticed.

He picked up the device. It was different from Ms. Tyler's. Where the tip of hers was blue his was green and there were four clamps on either side. His contained far more copper.

"We're back in London," Ms. Tyler replied, bringing him out of his examination. "But I don't think you'll find your flat outside."

"Sorry?" he asked, walking over to where she stood, gazing at the monitor.

"London, England, 1817. Something must have gone wrong. We'll have to…" She reached for the lever that operated the glass chamber in the center of the console and another loud _snap _indicated she'd received a shock. She pulled her hand back and it was everything he could do not to take her hand and examine it for an injury. _What the devil is wrong with me? _"Guess this is where we're supposed to be."

"I'm sorry?" he asked, wondering what she meant by that.

They weren't where they intended to be. How could they be where they were supposed to be?

"Sometime she takes us where we need to be." She caught his gaze. "Where something has gone wrong."

"According to the monitor we're in London, England, 1817. How could something have _gone wrong _as you put it, in the past?"

"Time isn't a straight line. It's not set in stone. Things can change and when that happens history changes. The TARDIS can detect that. She brought us here because there's something different, something that shouldn't be happening."

So, history could change, but that could only happen if something different were introduced, which must mean that time travel wasn't reserved for TARDISes. It sounded as if Ms. Tyler was very familiar with this sort of thing.

"Is this what you do? Travel to different times to keep history from changing?"

"Different times, planets, space ships, yeah. Pretty much," she replied, grinning. "It'll be dangerous though."

It was a warning and a question. She wanted him to accompany her, something he already planned on doing. He certainly wasn't going to stay inside the TARDIS.

"Danger doesn't frighten me," he replied.

"No?" she asked, raising her brow.

"No," he replied, trying to banish the smile that threatened to form.

"There'll be running."

"Obviously."

She nodded, still smiling.

"Alright then. First thing's first." She glanced over him. "You'll do, but I've got to change."

What?

"Change?"

"It's 1817, can't go out there dressed like this."

He watched her hurry down a corridor, leaving him standing in the control room with his thoughts. Aliens, space ships, other planets. The whole thing was impossible. Impossible and brilliant. He lost the battle and a smile emerged.

Sherlock wasn't sure what he thought of all this, his rational mind still wrestling with most of it. There was still John to consider. His friend would have a hard time with it, but he'd come round. If there's one person Sherlock knew he could always count on it was John.

Ms. Tyler returned a few minutes later and aliens, space ships, other planets, the TARDIS, even John banished to the back of his mind at the sight of her. She wore a long, burgundy and black lace, off the shoulder, dress. Her hair was up, wisps hanging down to frame her face. She gave him that cheeky grin and it was more than he could handle. Every thought, rational or otherwise was completely wiped from his mind.

"I wore this once, long time ago. I can't believe it still fits," she said, crossing the room toward him. When she drew up close to him she caught his gaze. "You all right? You seem a bit-"

"You look beautiful," he said, the words coming out in a hushed whisper. _Wait. What the hell did I just say? _"Um…Good…I meant fine."

"Right," she replied, giving him that cheeky grin as she helped him into his coat and then took his arm. "You could've stopped at the first one."

He allowed her to lead him to the door, too busy wondering what the hell was wrong with him to do otherwise. She opened it and they stepped outside. He gazed around the street. London, England, 1817. He was about to ask where they should start, since she'd done this sort of thing before, when a scream from the alley to their right drew his attention. In the next moment Ms. Tyler took his hand and raced off toward the alley with him running next to her.

* * *

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)**


	19. A Case Of Aging Part 1

Rose pulled Sherlock into the alley. There was an old man lying on the ground with a young woman bent down over him, crying. A few people were gathering in the alley, but no one seemed willing to help. What was wrong with them?

"Step aside," she ordered, shoving her way past them with Sherlock, "He's a doctor."

She paused, realizing her mistake. The excitement had made her forget for a moment. She glanced at the detective, but Sherlock didn't appear to have noticed her slip.

"If you would allow me," he said, his voice taking on a softer tone, one she hadn't heard from him before as he bent down and felt the man's wrist and then his neck. "No pulse."

The woman broke down. She put her arm around the woman's shoulder. Sherlock wasn't the doctor and she knew he could do with her help, especially since he wasn't using his sonic for some reason, but she didn't want to leave the woman on her own.

"Molly, what happened?" an older woman asked, coming over to stand next to them.

Molly turned toward the new woman and Rose dropped her arm, giving herself the freedom to crouch down next to the detective.

"Use your sonic," she whispered.

He glanced at her and then back to the body.

"I'm quite capable of discerning the cause of this man's death without the aid of _that_ device," he replied, as if using the sonic was below him.

She could've slapped him. Why was he being so stubborn about it?

"I'm sure you are, but we'd already have a cause if you used it."

He gave her a reproachful glance and then examined the man's fingernails.

"It appears to be his heart," he said. "Does your father have a history of heart disease?"

"Heart what?" the second woman asked.

"1817," Rose whispered.

"He's my husband," Molly corrected.

"Someone has daddy issues," Rose whispered, glancing at the detective with a grin and she was rewarded by a brief smile.

"That's Stuart?" the second woman asked. "But he's an old man. How could that happen?"

Wait. What did she mean by that?

"I'm sorry?" Sherlock asked, turning around to gaze at the women at the same time Rose did.

"I don't know. I…I found him like this," Molly explained between sobs.

"What?" Rose asked in disbelief.

So, Stuart wasn't an old man, but he was when Molly found him. How could that happen? She went over everything she had come into contact with during her travels with both Doctors, but she couldn't recall anything that caused rapid aging, which meant whatever this was it was something new.

Sherlock stood up, focusing on Molly, wife of the victim.

"What do you mean, aged?" he asked and she could hear the same disbelief she felt mirrored in his voice.

"He got in an argument with his brother during dinner and walked out. I tried to catch up with him, but when I turned down the alley after him. He…he was like this."

So rapid aging in seconds. This was really bad. They had to find whatever was doing this and stop it.

"How old was your husband?" Rose asked.

"Twenty-five."

From twenty-five to…she glanced at the body…eighty-five? Ninety-five? It might seem like his heart, but that's not what killed him. Stuart aged to death.

"I'm sorry?" Sherlock asked, glancing at the old man's body. "You mean to say that man," he gestured at the body, "Is twenty-five years old?"

"Yes, sir," Molly confirmed.

"But that's-"

"I heard tell the same thing happened the other day," the second woman said.

Wait. What? There'd been another victim.

"This happened before?" Rose asked.

"I didn't believe it when I heard it. Thought someone was making things up. A young woman walking home with her mum and next thing you know the young one dies an old woman."

"Where did this happen?" Sherlock asked.

"Few streets over," the woman replied, pointing in the direction.

In the next moment a constable arrived, followed by another. Rose took Sherlock's arm and led him away from the scene. The last thing they needed was to get mixed up with the police.

"It's impossible," Sherlock whispered as they walked down the street.

"Impossible or not we have to figure out what killed those people and stop it before it hurts anyone else, but first thing's first we need a room," she said.

"I'm sorry?" he asked and she couldn't help laughing at the look he gave her.

"Don't look so worried. I mean, we need somewhere we can figure this out. I think we passed a hotel when we were running for the alley."

The three story building came into view. She grinned as she led him toward the building. She'd wanted a distraction and this would do the job. Running, people in danger, there would be a life and death struggle, there was always a life and death struggle. It was brilliant.

* * *

Standard Disclaimer.

Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)**


	20. A Case Of Aging Part 2

At first Sherlock didn't understand Ms. Tyler's insistence that they _get a room _as she so eloquently put it. His mind was too busy to sleep as he tried to work out how a young man could die of old age in mere seconds and Ms. Tyler didn't seem fatigued in the slightest. Now, as they looked through newspapers that cover the last week, he understood.

She fabricated a believable story about both of them visiting London to watch her sister perform in the theater and asked if the front desk clerk had kept any newspapers from the last week as she couldn't recall what day the announcement went out. She explained that she wanted to take the clipping back to her mother who was in failing health and so hadn't been able to accompany them. The front desk clerk had given her a sympathetic smile and a not so wholesome glance at her…Sherlock shifted a bit angrily at the memory and then grew irritated that even the memory bothered him. _What the hell is wrong with me? _

Either way she'd gained the newspapers for the last week and for the past hour they'd been going over the articles looking for similarities to the victim in the alley.

"Found it," Ms. Tyler said, walking over to sit next to him on the sofa that was stationed against the wall directly across from the large brass bed that dominated the room.

He sat the newspaper he'd been glancing over aside as he took the paper from her. She indicated the article. Beatrice Lotter, 17, had been shopping with her mother. They were on their way home when her mother realized her pocketbook was missing. She asked her daughter to wait while she went back to the shop to retrieve it, recalling she sat it down while chatting with the shopkeeper. When Mrs. Lotter returned to the alley minutes later she found an old woman, dying, wearing the same clothes as her daughter. When she bent down to help the old woman she realized that the woman was in fact her daughter.

"They're attributing it to a _mysterious illness,_" he read and then scoffed.

An illness couldn't cause sudden aging, not like that.

"Without the advancements of medical science they don't have a lot to go on," she replied. "Any ideas?"

"A chemical…possibly," although that sounded farfetched, but for the first time he was rather stumped. If there had been more of a time delay between when the victims were last seen and the aged bodies being found there would've been dozens of possibilities, but not in that short of a time.

"Could do," she said, surprising him. He glanced at her. "Not something we'd know about. It'd definitely be from your future. 24th century or so. But why them then?"

"Sorry?" he asked, still processing what she said.

A future chemical. Something developed to kill by aging.

"Well, if it was a future chemical that would mean that someone brought it here to kill these people, they were targets. So, why them? And also, why kill them like this. I mean, if the point was to just kill them a bullet would be easier."

"It's personal," he deduced. The murderer wanted to make sure they suffered, but why? If the killer was from the future, hundreds of years in fact, what stake would he have in their lives? What could these people have done?

"Could be like the werewolf," she said, drawing his immediate attention.

"The what now?" he asked.

_Werewolf_? Did she actually say _werewolf_?

"He wasn't an actual werewolf, well, he was, looked the part and all, but he wasn't from Earth."

"An alien werewolf?"

She grinned.

"Yeah, crashed here…well, a different here, but according to the Doctor some particles of him survived and found a home inside a sick child and from there he was transferred from one body to the next as the old one wore out."

"And this werewolf aged people?"

"No, but, I mean, what's this remind you of?" she asked, indicating the article. He had absolutely no idea where her train of thought led. "Something that drains the life out of its victims."

"You think it's a vampire?" he asked in stunned disbelief.

Vampires…well, now…he glanced at the article…that would be interesting.

"There were no puncture marks, no indication of blood loss."

"The werewolf I encountered wasn't exactly like movie werewolves, maybe the vampire's like that too. Instead of feeding on blood it feeds-"

"On the victim's life force, which, in turn, ages the victim to the point of death."

"Exactly," she replied, giving him the smile that told him she thought he was brilliant and he couldn't stop himself from smiling in return. "Now, we've just got to figure out where he's going to strike and stop him."

"And I know where we can start looking."

"How?"

"If he is like a vampire then he has to feed and if this girl was his first victim that means he must have arrived that night or shortly before. If the victims are random he would've taken the earliest opportunity. By searching the area where her body was found we may find clues that can tell us where he's hiding."

"Well, then what're we waiting for?" she asked, standing up and taking his hand.

He allowed her invasion as he returned the smile she was giving him. They were about to hunt a serial killer, a vampire serial killer. Definitely not the type of case he ever expected and definitely not ordinary.

* * *

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Thank you to all my brilliant readers!

**If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)**


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